


Endeavour: Lander

by Parakeetist



Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse & Related Fandoms, Inspector Morse (TV), Inspector Morse - Colin Dexter
Genre: F/M, Fancy dress uniform, Rain, Secondment, Shaving, Trains, bus ride, falling asleep, moustaches, solving a murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parakeetist/pseuds/Parakeetist
Summary: This story is to replace a scene which was deleted from Series Six. You can see it in the artwork for the show. It’s toward the center of the illustration: Endeavour is facing Joan. Miss Thursday reaches out and touches his right cheek. For reasons I’ve never entirely heard, they erased that scene, so it’s no longer in the show. I thought I’d explain what was going to happen. What I thought might have happened, anyway.Starts in series six. Some events have been moved up in time. Departs considerably from the canon.Thank you.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday, Fred Thursday/Win Thursday
Kudos: 7





	Endeavour: Lander

Endeavour: Lander  
by Parakeetist

…

Joan Thursday tugged the strap of her purse. She leaned over and looked for the bus. If it didn’t show up for another five minutes, she’d call a cab. She’d just gotten out of work, and hated it when her commute dragged out, because that only made her more tired.  
“You there!” someone called out. She turned around. The voice was familiar.  
It was Morse. He was, for once, not wearing an average suit, but his full dress uniform.   
“Mr. Morse,” she said. “Imagine meeting you here.”  
“Indeed.”  
“Why haven’t I seen you dressed like that before?”  
“We met after I was promoted to detective.”  
“Ah, of course.”  
“Would you have a moment to talk?”  
“Certainly, Mr. Morse. I was about to take the bus.”   
“I’ll drive you.”  
“Oh.” She looked puzzled. “How did you know I was going to be here?”  
“That’s, ah, not relevant.”   
She tilted her head. “Why?”  
He stepped a couple of meters away, so they wouldn’t block anyone who was still waiting in line. “There was something I wanted to tell you.”  
“Oh. Tell away.”  
“There’s talk of me being demoted. And your father as well.”  
“There is? Why?”  
“The brass at the new station don’t seem to think we’re good at obedience.”  
“My father didn’t tell me yet.” She paused. “You’ll have to change the stripes on your sleeves, if they do.”  
“I hadn’t thought of that.”   
“I listened to you, now, could you please answer me one thing?”  
“What?”  
“You don’t-” She brushed the top of her lip. “Haven’t shaved in a while.”  
“Yes. Well. That’s a-” He fiddled with his right ear. “It’s a bit personal.”  
“Oh. Not going to tell me, then?”  
“Well, you might gossip.”  
“You know full and well that I will not. I do not.”  
“Doesn’t every woman?”  
She rolled her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. “By G-” But before she completed the word, she breathed out heavily. “Not going to say what I wanted to say. Excuse me.” She began to step around him.  
“Hey, you. I’m not done with you.” He grabbed her arm.  
She pulled away. “Stop that.”   
“All right, I’ll tell you why I have it. It’s – for Mr. Fancy.”  
“Oh?” She tilted her head.  
“He died waiting for me to come save him. I got there too late. If I had been two minutes earlier, he’d still be alive.”  
“You mustn’t second-guess yourself like that.” She looked down. “I’d better get going.”  
“Can I drive you anywhere?”  
“Well, you shouldn’t – I shouldn’t – be creating situations we don’t want to be in.”  
“What do you mean by that?”  
“Ah-” She looked to the side.  
“Have you been seeing anybody lately?” he asked.   
“No. I have not.”  
“Well, ah-” This time he twisted a finger in his ear, as if cleaning out earwax. “I – was – just wondering.” He put a smile on the end of the sentence.   
“I’ve wanted to. But I don’t know. I guess I won’t be getting-” She gulped, and did not say the m word. “Ever since you asked me, two years ago, and I said no, I’ve – felt that I did the wrong thing.”  
“Really?” He leaned his head back, and blushed deeply.   
“I’ve often wished that I could have changed your mind. In between then and now. There, I said it.” She fiddled with a lock of her hair. “Embarrassing enough, aren’t I?”  
“Ah, ah-” He stuttered for a moment. “Are you saying-”  
She dipped her chin. “Yes. I am saying. I hope you would – still like to get married.”  
He paused. “What would you say if I asked you again?”  
“I’d say – something different.”   
“Oh?”   
“I – I -” She put up a hand and touched his face. “Time to make a phone call. I forgot. See you.” She kissed him on the cheek, very briefly, and smiled.   
“Oh no, you don’t.” He grabbed her hand, securing it in place.   
“I don’t?” She looked very confused.  
He leaned down and kissed her.   
It went on for a long time. She finally pulled away. “Well.”  
“Well.” His eyes were wide.  
“Guess I’ll make that call.” She dashed down to a phone booth, twenty meters away.  
Endeavour breathed out heavily and paced back and forth. A few minutes later, Joan came back from her call, looking considerably downcast.  
“That was Mom. Ah, bad news.” Joan adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Dad has asked her to leave the house.”  
“What?” Morse was thunderstruck. “Why, did she say?”  
“They had a fight over whether to go on vacation to Wales this summer. Dad accused Mom of charging too much on his credit card. He said that’s why they couldn’t afford it. She asked him for the statement. That’s when he said he-” She put a hand to her mouth. “He wanted her to leave.”  
“Dreadful. Did you want me to go and talk to them?”  
“My Dad’s made up his mind. He threw back at her what she said about talking to a solicitor, so she doesn’t have much hope of countering his argument. Even though she said she didn’t make excessive charges. This month, Mom bought a new lamp, to replace the one that got knocked over, and a blue-green skirt. Both of which he approved beforehand.”  
“That’s too bad. I thought their situation had improved a bit.”  
“I did too. Mom apologized for the solicitor business, and said she wouldn’t go to the office again. Now this.” Joan looked to the side, then back again. “This is all well into the marriage. This year was supposed to be their thirtieth anniversary.” She shook her head. “I guess nobody can make it through, nowadays. Mom didn’t leave the house yet. She’s packing a case.”  
“I’ll talk to your father.”  
“Well, if you must.”  
“I will.” Endeavour put a hand above his brows and looked to the sky. “Clouds coming in. I’d better get you home.”  
“I was going to take the bus.”  
“Nonsense.” He walked to the car. She followed.  
As they got in, she said, “I’ve left my flat.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Mrs. Law said she’s going to put me on a secondment.”  
“Where to?”  
“She doesn’t know yet. My lease was running out anyway.”  
“Where have you stayed since you left the place?”  
“For the past couple days, I’ve stayed with Doris. I know her from work. But her husband’s back from the Navy, so I can’t stay.”  
“Out of luck, then.”   
“I guess I can pick a hotel.”  
“That sounds dreadful of you, Miss Thursday.”  
She snickered. “You!”   
He turned on the ignition and the radio, and moved into traffic. They heard the crack of thunder. “It’s starting,” he said.   
Rain, however, did not come down. Hail did.  
“What on Earth?” Endeavour said. He peered out the window. “It’s real. Hopefully, they’ll say something about it on the radio.”  
“Crimony.” Joan whistled along with the piece of music that was playing. Sure enough, the music soon stopped, and the announcer spoke.  
“Afternoon, folks. We’ve got some pretty odd weather happening in Oxfordshire. Hail, rain, even snow. We’re waiting for the precipitation amounts to come in.”  
Morse tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Bother.” Rain had started to pour down, along with the hail He switched on the defogger. “Are you sure you don’t want to try your parents’ house?”  
“Well, yes, let’s do that.”  
“All right. I’ll have to see-”  
He looked down the street. A lorry blocked the way. A huge tree had fallen into the road, and the lorry was there to remove it.   
Morse rolled open the window and yelled to a worker, who was standing next to the truck. “Excuse me!”   
The man walked over. “Yes?”  
Morse showed him his police ID. “Can you tell me how long this is going to take?”  
“At least a half-hour.”  
“All right. Thank you.” He closed the window. The man went back to his point of watch.   
The hail had already switched to rain. Morse made sure the windows were shut tightly. “You all right there?”  
“I’m fine.” Joan smiled.   
Morse shut off the ignition, but left the switch on for the radio. He stretched his arms. “Ah. Feels better.”   
“Thanks for the drive,” Joan said. “At least I don’t have to walk in all this.”  
“You’re welcome. It’s my duty as an officer.”  
“Since we’ve nothing to do for a while…” She turned to face him.   
They kissed.  
Twenty minutes later, the watcher with the truck tapped on the window. “Sir, the tree’s been cleared. Took a little less time than we thought. You’re free to go.”  
“Heard you loud and clear. Thank you.” The lorry had moved over. Morse switched on the ignition again, and drove through the open space.   
“Good to be getting out of here,” he said.   
“Yes,” Joan said. She looked out the passenger window.   
In some minutes, Endeavour rolled up to the Thursdays’ house. Joan got out and rang the bell.   
Her mother answered the door. “I was wondering what you were up to.”  
“Hey, Mom. Is the – ah, the problem over yet?”  
“He said sorry. I did too. It’ll work out.” Winifred smiled.   
“Thank goodness.” Joan hugged her mother.   
“Now, I know you don’t have a place to stay. Your father and I, we will be – watching a movie ‘til late. The sound would keep you awake.” She went to get her purse, and stuffed a ten-pound note into her daughter’s hand. “Have fun.”  
“Why, thank you. Very generous of you.” Joan hugged her mother again. “Be seeing you.”  
“Bye now.” Her mother shut the door.  
“Watching a movie, yeah, right…” Joan blushed and smirked. She went back to the car. “Yes, Mom and Dad will be-” Joan could not suppress a laugh. “’Watching a movie’ tonight. Sure.”   
“Are you serious?” Morse blushed.   
“That was my reaction. Good for them.”  
“I got some photos of my house. Here.” He rummaged in the glove compartment and took out a manila envelope. “It’s smaller than it looks from outside. Not like that ‘Dr. Who’ show.” He smiled. She did as well.  
“Oh, that’s nice.” He flipped through the pictures. “It’s got some nice decorations already.”  
“Never heard anybody say that to me before.”  
“I like the flowerpot there.”  
“Oh, that’s a tea jar.”  
“Really? Oops.”  
“You could get me some flowers.”  
“I suppose.”  
“And put them right…”  
“There…”  
They kissed.   
A man behind them leaned on his horn.   
“Easy now,” Endeavour muttered, and moved into traffic.

…

He dropped her off at a hotel. She kissed him goodbye and ran inside, before she could act on any regrets.   
The next Monday, Joan found out where her secondment would be. She packed some things and got on the bus. The flat she’d been recommended was the most cramped, drab place she had ever seen.   
Months passed. Every night, she thought about him. She met some friends, went out to eat with them, went to the park, took in cricket and football matches on the telly. When she returned to her room at night, she thought about him. What was he doing? Had he taken the test for Detective Inspector yet? What would it be like, if he were here with her now?  
She wrote him some postcards, regular letters, even a greeting card for “whenever your birthday is,” as she joked. She put in a gift certificate for five pounds. It’d buy a modest lunch, at least.   
Then she got a letter in return. Joan reached for the opener and ripped through the top end of the envelope.   
She finished reading it in minutes, and rubbed tears out of her eyes. Morse always made the same mistakes. Always rushed into things, never wanted to wait, to get to know someone; she was sure that his excuse would be, it was New Year’s Eve, she didn’t tell me she was married – and her reply would be that he hadn’t really been in a hurry to ask, now, had he.   
No use pushing him. His tone toward the end of the letter indicated he had a lot to process; if she tried to push him, even if she were right, his circuits might fry. She thought of the way it had looked when the computer at work overheated. Lights popping out all over the place.   
Several times, in the past, she had come close to interrupting whatever relationship he was trying to have. There was that time he’d kissed her in front of her flat. It seemed so long ago. Morse seemed to run through relationships in bursts of energy, followed by deserts in which he had no friends at all. Endeavour never seemed to have any other friends, besides whomever he was dating at the moment.  
But he asked… to remain hers. Eternally.   
That was something. Maybe he wanted to get married, maybe he didn’t. She’d wait and see. Years ago, Joan had thought her parents seemed so boring. But you never knew what went on behind closed doors. Maybe that way of life didn’t have to be ‘all the same.’ Life could be an experiment. Just see what happens. Her friends would think that was funny.  
The day came for her to pack up and leave. She got her belongings together and headed to the train station. There was a stand with some snacks and magazines. She bought a soft pretzel and an issue of the publication for the Royal Society of Birdwatching.   
When the train arrived, Joan hopped on, and stashed her things in the cases above the seats. She sat down, and moved her shoulders deeper into the chair.   
Joan woke up to the announcer calling, “Oxford now, Oxford.” She’d missed the entire trip. Surprised, she took her bags, stuffed the birdwatching magazine into one of them, and walked out onto the platform.   
A befuddled, overheated Morse stood not twenty meters away. He was looking into the middle of nowhere, and mumbling to himself. Despite the heat of the day, he still had on that huge overcoat of his. She meant to get him a hat and a pipe, as gag gifts, to complete the picture of the cliched detective.   
She noticed he was clean-shaven. The Fancy case, then, must be in the books.   
“Over here,” Joan called out. “Over here?” She smiled.  
Endeavour turned his head. When he spotted her, relief flooded his face. “It’s you.”  
She started to move the bags toward the curb, but he stopped her. He grabbed her and shook her back and forth.   
Surprised, she said, “What’s happened to you, all of a sudden?”  
“Welcome home.”  
“I read the letter.”  
“I see.” He picked up her suitcases and put them in the boot of the car. “Ready to go?” He opened the passenger door and tapped her on the elbow.   
“Yes. How are my parents?”  
“Well, your father wants to retire. He’s agreed to scattered shifts, on different days, so we won’t be working on the same cases all the time.”  
“I wonder if he’ll take up fishing, or building model boats. No, tanks would be more his thing. He was in the Army during the war.”  
“Yes indeed.”  
“Did you happen to hear what my brother’s been up to?”  
“He called your Dad. Been training in rockets. Wonder if he’ll be in the space program one day.”  
“Does England have one?”  
“Somewhere, I’m sure.”  
“The Americans beat us to the Moon.”  
“They did, didn’t they.”  
“I wonder what they did with the landing craft.”  
“It’s probably in a museum somewhere. If it’s not being used again.”  
“We’ll never be cooler than they are, now.”  
“Hey, now. We could go to Mars.”  
“I’ve heard it’s more than two years each way.”  
“Bother.”  
A van stopped short in front of Morse. He hit the brakes. “Crimony!” he yelled. The van moved out in front again, and turned the corner. “Good riddance to you,” he seethed.   
“Don’t let yourself get too worked up.” She reached over and rubbed the back of his neck. And stopped almost immediately. “I wasn’t trying to, I – I-” she blathered.  
“Why did you stop? That was good.”  
They both sat there, awkwardly, for a moment. Then Morse whistled along with the music on the radio.  
“Would you like to see my house?” he said.   
“Not just pictures?” she said. “Okay.”  
They made their way toward the place. Joan looked out at the fields. At last, Endeavour pulled up and parked.   
“Ah, so this is the castle.” Joan shut her door and stepped down the path.   
“Castle, huh. It’s enough.” Morse opened the door.  
Joan looked around. “It’s beautiful.”  
“Ah, come on, this cube? There’s barely room to turn around in here.”  
“Well, maybe someday you’ll have a larger home. Interesting color you chose for the front room.”  
“I believe it’s called off-white.”  
She chuckled. “Nice little plant there. What’s it called?”  
“’Green thing I got from the store.’”  
Morse sank down into a chair and flexed his legs. “I’ve got to take more baths. Relaxes the muscles.”  
“Is your neck still hurting? Let me.” She rushed to stand next to him, and began to massage his neck again.  
“Oh!” Morse said. He relaxed. “That’s good. Could you get me the ointment, from the cabinet in the washroom?”  
Joan nodded. “Where is the-?”  
“Down the hall, to your left.”  
In a minute, she returned with the salve. She handed it to Morse. “Need a serviette?”  
“No, thanks.” Endeavour undid the cap and squeezed some paste onto his fingers. He moved them under his shirt. “This feels better.”  
Joan looked at the stereo. “Mind if I spy on your record collection?”  
“Certainly I do. You are supposed to look at the books first.”  
She snorted, and crossed to the shelves. “You haven’t got many.” Joan was surprised. “No novels. Almost all history and science. I thought you studied Greats? There’s nothing in ancient Greek.”  
“If I want to read Homer, I’ll just get it out of the library.”  
Her eyebrows went up. “Gee, you must have been pretty down after school. One would think you could go anywhere, with a degree like that.”  
He stared at her with a look that radiated, Get off the subject.   
Joan did. “You’ve never told me what the rest of your family’s like. Your uncles, grandparents-”  
Endeavour shrugged. “Most of them aren’t around anymore.”  
“Oh. Well, you haven’t even told me your birthday.”  
“And there’s a reason for that.”  
“I was only trying to be friendly.”  
“Well, except for you, nobody got me anything this year.”  
That means he wants something, she figured. “Do you keep up with your half-sister?”  
He stared at her. “How did you know?”   
“I’ve heard the story, silly. Half from you, half from my father.”  
“I’ll ask your father to stop it with the gossip.”  
“Come on. When people have known each other for years, they naturally talk about each other.”  
He shrugged. “Don’t know about that.”  
“Well, Joyce is your half-sister, and she was there for you in some difficult years. Might be time to send her a card.” At last, Joan made her way to the stacks of albums. “Don’t you ever note the passing of time, in culture at least?”  
“Haven’t really bothered.”  
“Maybe I’ll get you a record. And I won’t tell you what it is.”  
He rolled his eyes. “That’ll be dreadful.”   
“Which is just what you need!” She laughed.  
He sighed again. “Come on, Morse,” Joan prodded him. “You need some energy in your life.”  
“Or what?”  
“You’ll just… fade away.”  
Joan rummaged around in the kitchen. She found a candle in a drawer, put it in a holder, and lit it. Then she shut off the electric lights.   
Morse smiled. “I was supposed to have made dinner, wasn’t I? Seems I forgot to pick up anything, and the only thing in the fridge is leftover pancakes. If you want that.”  
“I can go without.” She stepped close to him.   
“But hopefully, not for long?” he said, eyebrows raised.   
She picked up his hands and began to step back and forth.   
“What are you doing?” he said.  
“Dancing.”   
“But where’s the music?”  
“You sing. You’re the one in choir.”  
“Ah, all right. ‘I saw three ships come sailing in…’”  
“It’s a long way to Christmas.”   
“You.” He leaned his cheek against hers. “Your father once asked me where I saw myself in twenty years. Guess I’ve got thirteen to go.”  
“What will you be doing?”  
“Still a policeman, I’m sure. And you?”  
“Maybe I’ll take Mrs. Law’s place, when she retires.”  
“That’s something. Do you see yourself having a family?”  
Joan blushed. “The things you say.”  
“I mean it.”  
“Oh, two might be nice, to start with.”  
“Boy and a girl, or two boys, or two girls?”  
“Yes.”  
This time he smiled.  
They danced for a few more minutes. Then Joan blew out the candle. “I’d ask you to take me home, but it seems I don’t have one yet. I haven’t moved into a new flat.”  
“Correct. You’ve moved into a house.”  
She tilted her head. “What did you say?”  
“Stay with me.”  
“Ah – how long? Until my parents find out?”  
“Long as we both shall live.” He took a step closer to her. “I want someone in my life. Someone who won’t lose interest in two weeks.” Another step. “And cares about me back.”  
“I can do that.”   
She kissed him. He took her hand and opened the bedroom door.   
On one side of the bed, Endeavour began to step out of his clothes. Joan did so on the other side, but moved much more slowly. Her hands began to shake.   
Morse crossed to her side. “I’ll help.” He slipped off her shirt, and then her skirt.   
Moments later, the last of the clothes were on the floor. He kissed her and cupped her shoulders. Then he reached over and pushed aside the top bed sheet.   
“Do you want me to?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she said, and kissed him in return. They climbed into bed.   
He began to move slowly, then raised his pace. She grunted and pushed her fingers into his shoulders. At his last burst of speed, she gasped, not sure how long she could take it. Her face twisted. She pressed her knees firmly against his, hoping he would understand.   
At last he exhaled, and paused for a long moment until he breathed again. He moved beside her, and threw an arm over her head.   
“My parents will… want me to get married soon,” Joan said. “Even if they’re not saying it, that’s what they think.” Joan lay there, until Morse pulled her head onto his chest.   
“I can work on that.” He smiled.   
“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but – what happened to Mr. Fancy?”  
“It was DS Alan Jago. He did for him.”  
“That’s awful.” She stretched her fingers over his chest.   
“I shot DCI Box.”  
“No!”   
“Yes. Didn’t – want to, but I was nervous. Your father told me he went to the hospital, and he was fifty-fifty. I still don’t know what’s going to happen. Might be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Not to mention prison.”  
“There’s only darkness, isn’t there. No light.”  
He brushed her hair. “You stop thinking like that. Don’t let’s both give up.”  
“I’ll try,” she said, very softly.  
“I will too.”   
They settled into the pillows and were asleep within seconds. 

THE END


End file.
